Week 6: King’s Landing and the Magician
“Dum dum, dada dum dum” I hummed to myself. The chill of the early morning put some pep in my step, as did the unmistakable tune I hummed with glee as I walked to the nearest train station at the crack of dawn. I was off to have a look at Girona, or should I say King’s Landing?! Braavos?!
A little research and suggestions from colleagues at Sant Ignasi pointed me to one of Catalonia's most picturesque cities that hides a cache of lesser known churches, museums, and sections of preserved medieval walls. Girona was also a filming location for Game of Thrones. You know, the series finale that had everyone ripping their hair clean out of their heads last year? To many of my students’ disapproval, I retain the sour opinion that the show was below average at best with its tragically base acting, predictably unpredictable demises, and blood curdling violence (see Obyrn, the Red Wedding, Shireen Baratheon, et cetera, I mean really?) tickling our ticklish dopamine levels...Read “The Lord of the Rings” for Pete’s sake!” Ahem...anyway. Saying I went to such and such a place and saw and such a thing from GOT would "up" my social status a tick or two. So Girona was a "can't miss."
A two hour train ride-perfect for a power-kitty nap-from Barcelona Sants station got me to Girona with plenty of morning to spare. Within twenty minutes I passed through Placa de Independencia (Girona is one of the most Catalan regions in Catalonia) to the main bridge over the Onyar River connecting the new and old sections of the city. Colorful buildings charmingly line either side of the slow waterway, inviting visitors to stay a while before wandering the labyrinth of winding streets and stairs in the Jewish Quarter. I paid visits to the Iglesia de Sant Feliu and Sant Pere de Galligants, which boasts architecture that might as well have been scooped up from Gondor in Middle Earth. Placid gardens of stone and green behind both churches could have been somewhere in Rivendell, (seeing what's going on here?) The 1st century Roman constructed wall and fortification towers on the opposite side of the garden got my imagination generating scenes of great battles between protectors of the city and legions of blood-thirsty barbarians. The views from the wall were spectacular, so when I wasn't imagining clashes titanic clashes between good and evil, I was looking out at the distant snow-capped mountain range that played as a backdrop to Girona's sea of orange and yellow tiled houses.
Girona’s Cathedral was my last stop, and what a stop it was. I must admit I experienced the very distinct feeling of being transported when I climbed the Cathedral’s steps. For brief moments I was in Westeros, in the city of King’s Landing at the Great Sept of whatshisname that would eventually be burned to the ground by the mad-queen and her dragon in the penultimate episode. Sizzle, sizzle. The interior of the Cathedral was as lovely to look at as the exterior. But I could not tarry too long as I had a train to catch. With my social status updated I retraced my steps and before I knew it I was sitting almost directly behind the managers’ box at Camp Nou, one of soccer's great cathedrals. I have my friend Alejandro to thank for the tickets. But I have Leonel Messi to thank for an electric sports experience. Celta Vigo played tough throughout, however Messi seemed to single-handedly overpower the opponent with curving firecrackers from place kicks that only the magician himself could have struck. I was impressed. Very impressed.
Walking away from the stadium I had the opening of Radiohead’s “National Anthem” ripping as I replayed Messi’s physics-defying magic in my head. The energy of the match still radiates from my memory as I write now, as hot as dragon’s fire!
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